Takes one to know one
by Foodwise
Summary: Jane goes on holiday-and contemplates her future. Maura meanwhile attends a conference-and is confronted with her past. When they meet again... No, you'll have to read to find out.
1. Holiday

**Rizzoli & Isles****, M, Drama/Hurt/Comfort/Romance, Jane Rizzoli/Maura Isles**

**Disclaimer: ****Rizzoli & Isles, its characters, places, and situations are the property of Ostar Productions, Warner Horizon Television and TNT. Credit for the original book series goes to Tess Gerritsen. This story was written for entertainment not monetary purposes. Original characters, and this story, are intellectual property of the author. Any similarities to existing characters, fictional or real, living or dead, are coincidental and no harm is intended.**

**Notes: I still can't seem to find a way back into 'Evening, kitchen'. I thought I'd gotten back into the right mind-set with two one shots, but alas, everything I start writing for that story seems wrong. I'm going to put it on hiatus until inspiration strikes. I'm juggling a lot of unfinished stuff and if that pisses people off because consequentially updates are slow, I'm sorry, but that's just the way I work. I can't back off from fresh ideas and I simply can't keep stuff under a tight lid until they're done, especially stories with more than two or three chapters. Yet I always come back to older stories and only dismiss them if I really see absolutely no way to make them work and that only happened once yet.**

**I'm not going to give away anything about this one, there won't even be much of a summary. I usually post while I write, so if life becomes busy or my other stories need my attention, updates will again come slow. I have a general plan but as I've experienced in the past, that tends not to mean very much. And I'm going a bit OOC here. Not too much I think, but somehow it is necessary for what I have in mind...**

**So just go with it and let me know if you find it worth continuing.  
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><p><strong>Takes <strong>**one to know one**

**1. Holiday**

Det. Jane Rizzoli dug her feet into the warm sand, wriggling her toes, feeling the tiny grains between them and uttered a low, hoarse moan of sweet satisfaction. How could she have denied herself this feeling for so very long. Right now, she just didn't get it. This was heaven. The sun slowly sinking lower in the bright blue sky of the late afternoon, a light breeze wafting over her heated body, the parasol tilted away so she could tan without obstruction, her skin already used to the treatment after three days of nothing but sleeping, reading, listening to her IPod and the occasional swim to cool her down a notch or two. Most of all of the above at the beach.

At the beach. Almost three thousand miles away from Boston. Alone. At peace. Her mind at ease for the first time in what felt like years. Well, it had been years.

To be honest though, the very first day of her one holiday in four years had not been promising. From the moment she'd set foot into the airport in Boston she'd felt like on an emotional rollercoaster ride. She just didn't seem to know what to do with herself, how to even be just herself after all this time. Alternating between a pleasant buzz of anticipation and curiosity, and doubts and insecurities much different from the ones she usually carried around with herself. She'd arrived in Los Angeles late at night, a long and particularly rough work day behind her, all the paperwork she'd yet to finish before finally departing had left her more than late and she'd been glad to have deposited her travelling bags in Maura's office in the morning, had left Joe Friday at her parent's the evening prior, had spent half the night readying her apartment for her leave, so she wouldn't come home to a complete chaos and be already stressed again before she even set foot into the Department. Maura had chauffeured her to the airport, her amused grin at Jane's obvious nervousness taking this trip tinged by the least hint of sadness as they'd stood waiting at the gates.

_"Jane. Jane, look at __me. You're supposed to enjoy this, you know? You've more than earned a little time to take a breather. Get on that plane, forget about work, forget about the past three years, forget about- you know... And just try to relax and let the experience envelop you. That's what people do when they take a holiday. You're supposed to have fun. So go and have some."_

_A petite hand swept slowly down her forearm and came to a rest over her own, parched on the handle of her trolley__, conveying a familiar mix of trust, encouragement, comfort and calm._

_Jane ran her free hand over her face, blinking rapidly to ward off the sudden tiredness, then reached out to swiftly touch the doctor's shoulders with an exerted smile._

_"I know, Maur. It's just- I can't even remember the last time I took more than two days off. I think a couple of years ago I went to Vermont for a long weekend__ with-" She paused and scolded herself inwardly for her hesitation. "A friend. I've _never_ even been this far away from Boston before and all big holidays I remember were family vacations. This is completely new. I'm kinda really looking forward to it, but still..."_

_"Jane." The implication in Maura's intonation made Jane's head whip up and she frowned at her friend, who had made it a habit to express __so much more with just the different ways she said the Detective's name than other people could express with a whole sentence and various expression on their faces. This one was humorous exasperation. Maura's brow quirked upwards and she presented Jane with her best incredulous stare that didn't give away if she'd noticed the slight hesitation in Jane's sentence, just that she definitely had something to add to her friends reluctance to take a trip half the Department was jealous of. _

_"What's so scary about new?" She inquired with a lazy and calming smirk._

_There it was again. The other reason why Jane could barely tear herself away from here, from her routines, from home, from her workplace, from this city. Just the thought of not- Jane discarded the thought the moment it entered her conscious brain and instead she voiced again what she had several times during the planning stages of her holiday._

_"I wish you could've at least come with me. I think I would've felt much more comfortable having you around, having my best friend around and sharing this and- let's face it, you could need that 'breather' just as much as I guess I do."_

_"Jane." __Again. So much more than just her name. Maura's tone was in equal amounts apologetic and beat now, she squeezed Jane's hand and ran her thumb over the scarred skin on the back. _

_Jane captured her lower lip between her teeth and started worrying on it, unease and disappointment still visible in her expression, though she tried to mask it quickly._

_"We talked about this. I have to attend this conference, it's almost mandatory as well as very fascinating and I haven't missed it once in the past 7 years. And since Cavanaugh left you no other choice but to either take these __exact two weeks or only get a new chance next year, there was no room to argue. I'd love a couple of days at the beach." She sighed wearily, tearing her gaze away from where it rested on their joined hands and up to Jane's face._

_"Maybe next year. Maybe __somewhere even further away. Holiday my style. Okay?"_

_Jane huffed and grinned involuntarily._

_"Not so fond of the three star hotel I picked and the prospect of despicable hotel food, overcrowded beaches and hiking around in a nature resort, sleeping in a tent?"_

_She pointed at the camping gear accompanying her luggage and Maura gave a high, clear laugh of honest delight._

_"Well, that would certainly have been a first for me."_

_Jane chuckled, once more amazed but not surprised about all the things her friend had yet to experience._

_"I'll take you camping one day, Maura. But a weekend should be enough for you to be _that_ adventurous."_

_The announcement of her flight being ready for check-in cut their banter short and Jane withdrew her hand from under Maura's reluctantly, but only to pull the caramel-haired Doctor into a short, but heart-felt embrace._

_"I promise to enjoy myself. After all, it is California, huh? Be safe Maura, we'll talk sometime this week, okay?"_

_The shorter woman returned the hug and then took a step back to __scrutinise__ the lanky brunette thoroughly._

_"You take care, Jane. Don't do anything I wouldn't do either." She'd picked up on that phrase a couple of weeks ago as Frost had used it to send Frankie off to a date and she'd wanted to use it ever since, showing that she slowly picked up on colloquial terms._

_Jane smirked, acknowledging the intent._

_"What am I gonna eat, then? Where am I gonna sleep?" She replied, with a mock-panicked widening of twinkling brown eyes._

_At Maura's playful scowl, she winked and reached for her luggage._

_"__Keep an eye on the boys for me will you? I'll text you when I'm in my room. Have fun at that conference. Bye Maura."_

_She lifted her bag and gave the trolley a push, ready to roll._

_"Oh, I surely will. Have a safe trip Jane. Good-bye."_

_With one last tender smile, Jane turned and walked towards the check-in counter. During the routine security check, she glanced towards the place she'd left Maura behind at and gestured her with a tilt of her head and a furrowing of brows that it was okay for her to leave now._

_Maura nodded, waved a bit and then broke their gaze and headed for the parking lot._

_Jane Rizzoli took in a long and cleansing breath, her shoulders rising and falling with the expansion and deflation of her chest and only looked away as the elevator doors closed behind Maura._

_Maybe she needed this. Maybe it was just the right time to have a bit of time all to herself. The tug she felt in her guts told her that yes, it was time. Time to wrench her thoughts away from one Dr. Maura Isles and all the things she didn't want to think about when it came to her best friend. She really shouldn't think about._

_As she picked up her wallet, keys, cell phone, small change and shoulder bag behind the security gate, she felt stripped without her badge and service weapon she'd left behind at the station, but decided that from this moment on, she'd be just Jane Rizzoli, on her way to a fabulous, sunny, entertaining, relaxing holiday. She plunged into a chair in the airline's waiting lounge, plugged her ear buds in and stretched her long limbs, Florence and the Machine singing to her that the dog days were over..._

The equilibrium Jane had thought she'd found hadn't lasted long. The flight had been rough, the weather grim over a couple of states, the seat-belt signs flashing red for most of the ride. She wasn't afraid of flying, but she also didn't particularly like it. Like all situations where she wasn't in control, where she had to trust someone and even _something_ else with her safety. Like this shaking, jolting, vibrating box of metal. She hurriedly left the plane among the first few passengers once they'd reached the gate at LAX, quickly gathering her luggage and fetching her pre-confirmed rental car, a brand new Jeep Wrangler she'd be glad to have for the middle part of her trip, her little camping adventure.

She reached the hotel, a rather modest one for being situated in Santa Monica, but somehow Jane had wanted the full experience. Yes, she wanted to be just Jane Rizzoli for a change. The Jane it was hard to be in Boston, the Jane that had been taken over by her cop persona, the Jane that had been numbed by trying to protect her integrity, her believability, her stand among the other officers, her face-offs with Charles Hoyt and the mask she'd learned to wear to make it through the fear and finally, the shooting. But here, there was no family, no friends, no job, no city where every second citizen knew her face from the papers, just no one around her she knew, no one who had pinned certain expectations to her like post-its to a refrigerator door, no one she had to play pretend for. The prospect made her almost giddy and at the same time it frightened her. Obviously what she'd had in mind was much easier though than done. When had been the last time that she'd let go, when did she not assess her surroundings with the ever wary and attentive eye of a Detective? When did she allow herself to really have fun for the last time? Without thinking about a current case, without thinking about what people would say when they'd see her relaxed instead of tense, honestly happy instead of brooding and concentrated. When had she allowed herself to really _be_ herself for the last time? Too much had changed her perspective over the last years, too much had altered her perception of herself. Would she be able to find at least a bit of what she had left behind again? She only had two weeks, after all.

She steered the Jeep into the hotel's underground parking, heaved her trolley and bag out of the back of the car but left the camping gear.

After a rather interesting process of checking in, Jane stood in front of her room, still chuckling lightly. It had been so easy. Could it really be that easy to flip the switch? She'd just spent the last ten minutes blatantly flirting with the front office clerk. Yep- hello holiday Rizzoli. Jane swiped the key card through the slot, waiting for the green light to signal her she could enter, pushed the door open and instantly groaned. Then chuckled again. Then thought about Maura's offer for a joined vacation the following year. She should so take her friend up on that offer. She maneuvered her luggage into the tiny room that left barely enough space between the wall and the foot of the bed to get her trolley through to the smallest of wardrobes she'd ever seen. At least she had an adjoining bathroom with a shower. What the hell had she been expecting for 89$ per night? A suite at the Waldorff-Astoria? Ocean view? Golden faucets?

Jane huffed, her mood gone from chipper to weary within less than two minutes again. She let the shoulder bag slide down onto the bed and sank into the soft mattress beside it, sudden exhaustion settling in with the diminishment of the adrenaline her trip had been producing, which must have been all that had kept her going the last couple of hours. The bedside clock read 3:47AM.

She kicked off her boots and they tumbled to the floor, wriggled out of her slacks and shed her jacket. Just the soft thud of the cell phone falling out of her pocket during the process reminded her of the promise she'd made to Maura. Yawning, she pulled the covers around her lower body while simultaneously typing a short message into her phone, reassuring Maura that she'd reached her destination safe and sound, albeit terribly tired and wishing her a good rest of the night. Ignoring the faint light from the small lamp at the wall, too tired to get up again and turn it off, Jane just rolled over, the unfamiliar and too chemical smell of foreign bedclothes in her nose and fell asleep before the slight discomfort could even really bother her.

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><p><strong>So... How's that for a beginning (of sorts)?<strong>


	2. Hunger

**Just for those who haven't read any of my stories previously when I still used to mention this: I am not a native speaker and I don't have a beta. I'm trying to do my best, please forgive me any inadequacies in choice or variety of words, sentence structure/****my weakness for run-on sentences, grammar, spelling you might detect, I am constantly trying to learn and get better.**

**I say this because I'm afraid I could do Maura better justice in German, where my knowledge of more sophisticated and scientific terms to express what she says and thinks is way broader. Working on it, though. In English, I guess I'm so far more of a Rizzoli kinda gal...**

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><p><strong>2. Hunger<strong>

Dr. Maura Isles sat in her office, meticulously finishing her last autopsy report for the day. Well, as meticulously as she could manage. Her thoughts had been wandering off all day, at first because she still felt she'd missed something when Jane had left to catch her flight at the airport. There had been an air around her friend she had never felt before. By now, she'd been convinced she could read the elusive Detective quite well, but there was still more to discover. She _knew_ Jane trusted her like maybe no one else, still she had the nagging feeling there was a side she hadn't dared to let her in on yet. Why? What more did they need to make it through together before Jane would finally let the last of her defenses down? Why did she still feel the need to guard parts of herself? Hadn't she given her more than enough reason to assure Jane that she didn't judge her, didn't need to be protected from her fears and insecurities, that she valued her for everything that she was and was not, even the things she might not know yet? She was usually the one finding herself in that kind of juxtaposition.

Sighing, Maura pressed print, snatched the fresh pages from the machine, signed them and filed them to take them up to homicide when she' leave for the evening. Her glance fell on the conference program that lay half buried beneath a book she'd been consulting earlier and another strained huff of air escaped her. This was the second annoyance, and it bothered her more than she'd willingly admit. As if worrying, wondering about her friend hadn't been enough to darken her mood, after diligently studying the scheduled lectures on various topics, the seminars and the _speakers_ she'd found herself breathing faster, her heart rate increasing noticeably and a feeling she could only define as anxious anticipation settling low in her stomach. No. No, she needn't be thinking about that right now. She'd cross that bridge when- _if_ - she came to it.

But the feeling lingered. Her past clashing with her present, or rather, her feelings of the past collided with emotions of the present she had tried to bury as deeply inside of her as she could possibly manage. If there was one thing Maura Isles had perfected throughout the years, it was compartmentalising and rationalising her feelings. Feelings of not fitting in, being different, weird, not compatible, not living up to people's expectations, the feeling of never being enough, achieving enough, representing enough. She had needed to do so around most people she had ever, and she meant ever, met. Only two people had ever accepted her exactly the way she was without ever trying to change anything about her.

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><p>The next morning Maura stood patiently in the line at Boston Convention Center, waiting to be picking up her name tag. She was seconds away from turning around and politely but forthrightly asking the person behind her to not stand so very close, she could almost feel the looming presence and body warmth, she preferred if people would still be able to respect personal spaces and not invade them so thoughtlessly. Luckily enough, the queue was short and just a minute later she stood by a column, adjusting the tag to her dress. When again she felt a presence a little too close behind her. Before she could even think about turning around and adressing the person, they beat her to it.<p>

" Maura."

The soft, low timbre was genuine and unmistakably familiar. Paired with the shiver that immediately went through her and forced her to promptly pause her actions at the positively titillating chuckle that followed the greeting, Maura Isles didn't even need to turn around to identify the speaker. Well, it seemed she did need to cross that bridge, since it stood right behind her, literally breathing down her neck, all but inhaling her perfume or rather, her very essence. She felt frozen to the spot when a hand casually brushed her hair to the side and fingertips ghosted across her neck and down the back of her dress. She hated how her body betrayed her mind as her skin broke out in goose bumps, her respiration quickened as did her heart rate.

Only one person in the world did own that audacity. And had that effect. Even after all those years.

"Caelem." Her voice sounded breathy and shaky even to her own ears.

"That's me. You, Dr. Isles, look gorgeous. Some things never change, do they?"

The words whispered over her shoulder like the caress that had preceded them. She still didn't dare turn around. That accent had always managed to do the strangest things to her. The working class Cockney that just didn't seem to match the person uttering it, who was a long way from blue collar and had always proved to be a great challenge to her own intellect. She closed her eyes briefly, trying to pull herself together as best as she could. But the decision when to face the intruder of so many of her personal spaces was taken away from her when a hand softly but insistently settled at her waist and gently spun her around.

"My God, Maura, you sure still are the beauty of the bloody gods personified. In fact, you're looking better than ever."

Her breath caught when she was faced with the brightest smirk and her eyes met the pair staring just the slightest bit down on her. Heterochromia was nothing Maura had been unfamiliar with before she'd met Caelem, but this pair of decidedly different eyes would always hold her captive. One a sparkling, dark sapphire blue, the other an almost inhuman amber speckled with dark brown. She said nothing, just inspected the person she hadn't seen in almost ten years. Entering their thirties had left them with the smallest of hints at laugh lines around the mouth and wrinkles at the corner of their eyes. Skin naturally tan, hinting at the Arabian descent and smooth as it always had been, light brown hair in a styled mess of curls, sides and neck short, a diamond stud adorning the left earlobe. Maura's glance got stuck there.

"You still have it. Wear it, I mean."

Caelem nodded slowly, never blinking.

"I do. And I knew you'd be here. I wanted to wear it when you saw me again."

Maura's eyes traveled down the length of Caelem's body. Trim, shapely, tall and still incredibly handsome. Clad as understated as always, dark brown slacks and matching Wallabees, blue dress shirt beneath a vest with an unmistakable logo, beige cord suit jacket with elbow patches and the same worn and old leather shoulder bag, the style unchanged from so many years ago, it still suited Dr. Caelem Lewis more than it ever could any old Oxford professor.

"You look-" Maura Isles knew she was staring. And she was at a lack for words. Actually, she might as well have forgotten why she'd even come here and that the first lecture she had wanted to attend and have a front row seat for would start in less than ten minutes. Yet she was staring. "-really good."

"Maur, I'm here all week, if you intend to just keep staring at me, there will be plenty of time for that. Though I do feel kind of flattered, denying that would be pointless."

Maura blinked and gulped audibly. Where had her mind gone? It certainly wasn't working the way it was supposed to.

The hand that had seemed to have found permanent purchase at her waist slowly moved up her arm and cupped her cheek.

"Dr. Isles, are you seeing someone?"

Blunt, straight forward, to the point. Crude. Assuming all this was still welcome, today, now. So many things could have changed in ten years.

But feeling her heart still beating wildly in her chest, noticing how her eyelids fluttered close the second warm fingers initiated contact with her flushing face, Maura knew she was in trouble. In so much trouble.

"No, I'm not." She breathed out.

A thumb brushed over her cheekbone and it took her all not to gasp as the finger gradually travelled down to tugged at her bottom lip, close to the corner of her mouth.

"Would you like to have dinner with me tonight? I made reservations at 'Clio'."

"Oh!" She knew the delighted exclamation was all Caelem needed to know.

"You didn't think I would've forgotten how to woo you, or did you, Maura?"

Finally finding her speech again and somewhat her equilibrium, Maura adjusted to a dance she hadn't performed in years. She straightened her posture, her eyes finding Caelem's again and the glint in them didn't go unnoticed.

"No, I just hadn't suspected I'd let you or even want you to. Or that you were still so good at it."

A raised eyebrow and pursed lips changed the expression she was faced with to almost smugness.

"I always knew how to handle you, my dear. It seems nobody else has that figured out yet. I'm going to pick you up at seven. You will want to change into something worthy this - _reunion_."

It was not a question. It was a demand. And Maura merely nodded.

"Good girl. You haven't forgotten either. Now go, or else you will be late for your lecture. There is a seat in the front row with your name on it. I hope you like."

Maura's lips formed a surprised 'o', but her thoughts were cut short by a swift peck that was delivered to her cheek.

"Pay attention today, Maura. And I'll see you tonight."

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><p>She couldn't. Pay attention, that was. She couldn't seem to concentrate on a word the lecturer spoke. She'd suspected that meeting Caelem again would mess with her, but she had incredibly underestimated the real impact. Trying to wrench her thoughts away from the way their evening would ensue, she stared at the big screen, battling her mind to pay attention to the subject matter of the presentation.<p>

Caelem Lewis had been her lover for three short and insanely intense months. An affair she'd never regretted, but that had seriously thrown her off-balance back then, made her question a lot of conclusions she thought she'd come to about herself before. Because never before and only once after had she met anyone who could wield that much power over her, if they wanted. Reduce her to a quivering, shaking mess full of emotions. Strong, feral, basic emotions. The attraction, the mutual attraction was still undeniable. She knew where they might end up and she wasn't so sure if she really wanted it. Again. When she'd had to leave England, ten years ago, her perception of herself had been altered and her heart had been shattered to pieces. They had split amicably, knowing there was no possible way of continuing their relationship when both of them where bound to their respective countries by their studies, their obligations, but the love had never stood in question. The level of understanding and acceptance she'd had with Caelem, she'd only ever experienced again when Jane Rizzoli had barged into her life. Just that the circumstances were different. Jane was her friend. Caelem had never intended to be her friend. Caelem had always just wanted her. All of her. They had consumed each other, they had burned hotter than hell-fire and equally sinful. A pleasant tingle of recollection and anticipation singed down her spine.

What did she have to lose?

She was unaffiliated, free to do whatever she chose to do, she'd grown to understand the difference between an affair and love and had no illusion about the nature of _this_, should she allow it to happen. She couldn't deny herself a week of bliss, could she? A week that could consist of this conference on the one hand and on the other up-scale restaurants, maybe an evening or two at the theatre or opera and a lot of - intercourse. No. Mind-blowing, sweaty, dirty, glorious, wall-shaking sex. If nothing else, she'd be a very satisfied woman when this week would be over.

Caelem. Sharp tongue and even sharper brain. Almost flawlessly, uniquely beautiful and of a physicality that had yet to find its match. A hunger spread through Maura that had been left unattended, dulled, dismissed, maybe even misdirected for too long. If she couldn't have what she really needed, she might as well take what she wanted and could have right now. Caelem would almost be a satisfying substitute. For the time being.

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><p><strong>Maura, smitten by someone else but Jane? Sacrilege! Isn't it? Oh, but the fun...<strong>

**Cookies for the person who finds the little CSI reference. **


	3. Homage

**My apologies for leaving you hanging for so long. It's still fairly difficult for me to switch from one fandom to the other and adjust my line of thinking. **

**I won't be alternating between the two main characters every chapter, there might for each be a few in a row or just one at a time, it'll vary.**

**Please note that the rating has changed to M.  
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**Like I thought, Caelem seems to rile some of you a bit. I like that. And I wonder what you guys will have to say after this chapter. Speak your minds, I'm always curious.**

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><p><strong>3. Homage<strong>

The air that surrounded them was fraught with tension. The waiters barely dared to approach their table, afraid of intruding. The wine was dark and rich, the crown roast of lamb excellently prepared, and finally the moist, fragrant, creamy tarte au chocolat melted on Maura's tongue.

They didn't talk much. With their mouths, that was. Their eyes and bodies spoke a language of their own that neither had forgotten despite the years that had passed and whole conversations were held this way in the span of two precious hours in Boston's finest French restaurant.

From the moment Maura had opened her front door to welcome an impeccably dressed Caelem into her home, they had known that the scotch, the short conversation, the upcoming dinner, it all was just a prelude. An elegant, smooth, swaying build-up, accidental touches, batted lashes, double-entendres uttered in the most casual of sentences heightening their awareness of their mutual intentions. The clothes they wore. When Maura Isles went out like this, she went all out. Caelem wouldn't take her anywhere but a place even Maura would still be slightly overwhelmed with. She knew she wouldn't even have to order, wouldn't frown at the choices Caelem made, it had always been this way and she was sure that hadn't changed. Such instincts didn't just go away. Her emerald, shiny Ralph Lauren dress reached a palm below her knees, but the slit that went up her left thigh reached high. Very high. It was shoulder free and slim-fitted, the neckline low and endearing and the colour complimented the green in her hazel eyes, that was very prominent today, perfectly. But Caelem had all but ignored her attire, her jewellery, her make-up. Her strappy, black, four-inch heels. Hadn't even given Maura a once-over. Had just looked straight ahead into her eyes and had smiled. Whereas Maura had drunk the sight of Dr. Lewis in and it left her dizzy. The charcoal dress suit, vest and narrow tie a lighter grey silk and underneath it a crisp white shirt. Grey poulanes that suited the outfit's classic, almost historical cut. Caelem had always known how to leave an impression. Had always known how to impress the otherwise unflappable Maura Isles. From casual to dashing in a heartbeat. What she liked, how she worked. Caelem knew the way Maura operated and knew just how to push her buttons. Buttons others didn't even know existed.

Perfection was something the doctor had always adored. Something she was in awe of, eternally. Perfect mannerisms, perfectly crafted clothes, perfect food, perfect conversations on a level few people could hold. A perfect seduction. The uniqueness of her and Caelems relationship had left Maura aching for something, anything even close to what they'd had for years. There just was no match. A few challenges along the way, but never a match.

Maura Isles found herself up against the inside of her front door, the zipper of her dress lowered to her waist and most of the material bunching there, a strong but infinitely gentle hand around her neck, thumb against her throat, caressing, just occasionally lightly pressing. A calm, natural possessiveness that made her weak in the knees, made up for what she had desired other lovers to be but what they never could deliver. Barely inside her house they had exploded. The crackling electricity from being so close, dancing around each other all night, devouring with fierce glances, touching, but never lingering, closing in but never making the final connection had taken its rightful course. All and every feeling she had fought so hard to bury ten years ago came rushing back to her like a wildfire ate through dry scrubland and dared to overwhelm her. Maura couldn't remember the last time she'd been kissed like this, like she was a work of immeasurably valuable art, but neither as fragile nor a show piece. Because she was neither. Lust was tangible, delectable, deliciously, frighteningly intense. Lips had scorched a trail down her neck and teeth now nipped at the hard peaks of her exposed breasts. Arousal was a word too small to describe her need, her voracity for Caelem to do what they'd always done best together. If Jane could read her thoughts right this moment, not that she ever wanted her to know what exactly ran through her mind right this moment, but she would've gulped and surely choked on her sip of coffee or beer at the doctor's seemingly untypical inner choice of words, eyes going wide, unbelieving. Yes, under certain circumstances she was very prone to using profanities to describe her desires. Maura wanted to be taken, to be fucked into the wee morning hours. Fucked. For once not be treated like a 'precious flower', like her last lover had put it, but as the woman she could be, strong, ferocious and a tad bit shameless. And she wanted to rip the concealing clothes off Caelem's body and rediscover what really lay beneath them. Claw her way under the tight bandage that perfected the illusion of androgyny and free the curves, the plains and heaps and valleys, the subtle but undeniable femininity once laid bare, strip Caelem naked like she'd done so many times before and forget that it had been a man that had wooed her in the perception of the people who had watched them tonight, those who never really looked close enough, those who wouldn't ever question if what they thought they saw was really what was there, were too shallow to even remotely understand this play with gender and let the woman she adored worship her like only she could.

So she did. She pushed Caelem off, her dress now pooling around her feet and she stepped out of it, thrillingly aware of her own body, it's effects in only her perfect set of surprisingly simple but highclass, black lace underwear, roughly divested Caelem of the suit jacket while she pulled her tie loose and off, ripped the vest apart and caused its buttons to fly off in all directions, untucked the shirt and pulled it all over Caelem's head in one fluid motion. Her hands palmed flattened breasts and Caelem threw her a heated, knowing glance, Maura felt her swallowing a groan, then Caelem reached behind herself and unclasped the restricting garment.

As warm fingers made contact with hot skin, both gasped.

"Maura." Caelem wheezed and arched into the touch just once before trying to pull herself together and reestablishing her superior position in this game by stepping back, relishing in the frustrated, hushed growl Maura released.

"You're playing with me." She complained breathy, stepping forward again.

"And you're still wearing too many clothes. Take them off, take it all off. Now!"

Dr. Maura Isles didn't like being told what to do or being bossed around by anybody. But Caelem wasn't just anybody. She obliged instantly. And she'd waited for the order.

"Back off against the door again, I was far from done with you there when you decided to try and turn the tables on me. Or do you intend to change the rules, bird?"

The calm tone and piercing stare tore through Maura like a gasoline truck set on fire.

This. She'd missed this.

"No changing the rules. I like it the way it was."

"So you're gonna do what I tell you to do?"

"Yes." The deferent glance through dark lashes looked perfect on Maura Isles.

"Take what I give you?"

"I will." The corner of her mouth twitched, yearning to form a smile, a smirk rather, but she willed herself to remain demure, she didn't want to spoil the tension.

"Give me what I need, what I ask for?"

"Anything." And she would.

"Then get those fuckin' panties off your cute little arse and turn around."

There was a twinkle in Caelem's unique eyes that took the profanity out of her words, but her face remained calm, her expression demanding and Maura hastily complied. Caelem seldom swore at all, but when she did, the impact on Maura was astounding. It left her shivering, breathless. With her forehead against the cool wood of the entrance door, she marveled how some reactions could be so ingrained. After all, their last encounter was a decade ago and they'd only had a few short months at all.

When she remembered that Caelem had been many of her firsts, it was not just the fact that she had been the first woman Maura had ever slept with, she'd also made the common mistake to take Caelem for a man at first sight, but that misconception had been revised after only a few moments. From that second on she was intrigued. Despite her appearance, Caelem was more of a woman than any of the easily recognisable ones Maura knew. Never one to limit herself to anything, Maura had embraced the possibility of falling for her own gender rather than feel appalled or freaked out by it. She'd mused about it and whether she'd misread herself so far and come to the conclusion that, yes, she had, she was attracted to both men and women. The rest was remotely easy. Maura knew herself, so she hadn't been afraid of quickly becoming physically intimate. And Caelem had made it so easy to give in. But with the first kiss they'd shared Maura knew that this would be even more of a new experience for her.

Caelem was gentle, but forceful, careful, yet rough, but , loving, yet possessive. Being commanding and dominant came naturally to her. But she made sure, time and time again, that Maura was comfortable with it, that she didn't feel degraded or mistreated, used even. Left it to the smaller woman to decide. Eased her into what Maura had soon named 'their dance'. Maura knew that it was superstitious, but she'd never have let this happen with a man, taking on such a rather submissive stance. It was Caelem who made it different and acceptable, volitional even. The playfulness, the still existing give and take, the equal footing they stood on, which Caelem never failed to make sure of.

As she stood there, pressed against the door, nipples straining almost painfully against the wood, a strong hand wrapped around her throat, limiting her intake of oxygen bit by bit without scaring her or pressing hard enough to leave bruises, just a gentle but insistent press of a palm, while skilled fingers manipulated her, then forcefully filled her and quick and strong thrusts almost lifted her off her feet, she felt just as safe and secure as she always had. The shortage of air intensified the sensations tenfold, she felt like she'd fall over the edge any second, like her body couldn't stand the powerful onslaught, tension built and built between her legs but salvation wouldn't come.

"Maura." Caelem panted, the muscles in her arms, shoulders, back straining with the exertion and it earned her strangled, helpless, breathless . "Beautiful, what are you doing to me?"

Maura tried to cry out in pleasure, but just couldn't find the strength or air left inside.

The pressure still grew, coiled through her system, left her tethering at the very edge. Her lungs burned and small white dots just started to dance behind closed eyelids. It was time, she felt like she was about to implode.

"Azizam, come for me. Now-"

The growled Persian endearment paired with Caelem's fingertip barely grazing her clit she sent Maura flying and as the pressure to her airways was gone the very second her orgasm set in, it crashed through her more intensely with every gasping breath she greedily sucked in. Strong arms held her upright, her own legs giving in and she was turned around, now clinging weakly to the sweaty, naked body against hers and they sank to the soft rug beneath them. She swallowed a couple of times, trying to lubricate her dry throat, her head resting on Caelem's shoulder, arms protectively wrapped around her as the aftershocks slowly subsided.

After a long moment of silence in the comfort of each other's arms, Maura lifted her head, their eyes meeting.

"Salam. You okay?" Caelem smiled, but raised one brow.

"Say it again." Maura demanded softly.

"Azizam." Caelem whispered in her ear, her voice dark and husky, her hand brushing damp curls out of Maura's slightly sweaty face and tucking them behind her ear. Running fingers softly along the column of her throat and neck, then kissing every square milimeter after having made sure her hand had left no mark behind, her curved lips now conveying contentment. "May I take you to bed now and continue what we've just started?"

Then, quieter, dropping her façade. "Maura, my azizam, I missed you."

Maura groaned, both amazed at the way her libido instantly flared up again and at the endearment she hadn't heard in so long. At the softness, the affection in those words, this admission. And she smiled.

"I think I might have missed you, too, Dr. Lewis. And yes, please, let's take this to the bedroom."

As if on cue, both started to grin, then chuckled, then Maura dipped her head down to catch Caelem's lips in a passionate kiss, her hair cascading down, obscuring both their faces.

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks for reading. <strong>


	4. Author's note  soon to be continued

Not an update, but...

... I'm terribly sorry for not updating in so very long. I have not and will not abandon this story, there's just been some changes in my personal life and I have yet to get completely settled into a new job routine, I had to cancel the long nights and actually sleep for once. I've gotten so used to writing at night that's it's still hard to concentrate at any other time, but I'm sure I'll soon get used to it and get back into the groove.

I hope when that moment comes you'll still be interested in the continuation of this story...

Thanks so much for all your alerts and favourites, and - of course -for your patience.

Foodwise


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